On Children and Playing Nice
by SirusPolaris
Summary: Things at Titan's Tower aren't going as smoothly as a leader would hope. So, Robin is exercising his authority by giving the Titans... an essay? But why are all the Titans sneaking around each other? Maybe there's more to this assignment than they thought
1. Prologue: The Solution

**A/N:** Hello again! I know I've been MIA for _months_ now, but being a person in the real world will do that do you... I haven't written anything in so long that I fear that I might be horrendously out of practice. This piece is actually something I started almost an entire year ago, and WILL be chaptered! (Woo! A break from one-shots!) However, I can't guarantee that each chapter will be up to par-- as I've said, I'm extremely out of practice as well as ridiculously busy. But we'll see how it goes. It's mostly something to give me the opportunity to analyze each of the Titans in turn, which is something I've wanted to do for a long while.

Anyways, a warning: there are NO official pairings for this story! NONE! But there will be some _implied_ romance for those of you looking for it. I won't say who, because by now you should all know which couples I support and which I absolutely loathe, so it shouldn't come as any surprise. However, this will be an IC (In Character) fiction, meaning I will try my damndest to portray each of the characters as close to the way they do on the TV series.

But enough of me blathering. Enjoy the fic!

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. If it was, the series wouldn't be cancelled, Beast Boy would be less irritating, Raven would have more screen-time than any other character, and Robin would be shirtless ALL. THE. TIME.

* * *

**Prologue: The Solution**

"_Why _do we have to do this?" Raven droned, a quirked eyebrow her only outward expression of skepticism as she drew a folded slip of paper from the baseball cap.

"It's an exercise in teammate analysis, as well as a reinforcement of the bond we share as friends," Robin replied evenly, passing the hat to Starfire. "We're doing this to better know our team, and those in it."

Beast Boy frowned, chewing his pen cap and eyeing his piece of loose-leaf paper with exaggerated suspicion. "Sounds an awful lot like homework to me."

"It's not homework. It's an exercise."

The rest of the team made a low noise of disgruntlement, knowing fully well that this was a sort of earned punishment. It wasn't everyday that drama in the tower had escalated to the point where Robin decided a "friendship reinforcement exercise" was necessary.

But it was what it was. Superheroes or not, they were teenagers living in close quarters—it was inevitable that they'd all be at odds sooner or later.

There was no use pointing fingers at who or what triggered the foul attitudes to emerge, but the end result was Cyborg's beef with Robin over whether or not a new super-computer upgrade was feasible for the Titan's checkbook, Starfire's offense to Raven's blunt honesty about her newest wardrobe accessories (apparently, some fan had thought Starfire would appreciate a _Bedazzler _for her birthday),and Beast Boy's vinegar-filled water balloon prank falling on Raven's last working nerve.

For the most part, the tension in the Tower was purely passive-aggressive, a few snide comments passed and rude finger gestures behind turned backs. Harmless teenage conflict. Robin took careful note of each confrontation but figured it would pass with time. After all, they were the Teen Titans, professional vigilantes and guardians of Jump City. They could handle hardened criminals, and they could certainly handle each other.

However, it wasn't apparent to Robin just how wound up the team was until everybody's irritability peaked during the day's previous combat training.

A few cheap shots were exchanged—Cyborg almost took off his head with his blaster cannon "malfunction", Starfire singed Raven's cloak with a starbolt "by mistake," Raven "accidentally" threw Beast Boy over Titan's Tower and into the bay.

It wasn't training. It wasn't practice. It was an all-out _brawl._

Luckily, none of the team sustained any major injuries (other than a few bruised egos), but the work-out had left the team leader feeling appalled and uneasy.

Robin shook his head. What had happened to the Teen Titans? They were once so comfortable with each other, such a close-knit family, and now? Now he was afraid to open the fridge in case Beast Boy left an exploding ink-bomb meant for Raven in the butter tray. This was a bud in serious need of nipping, he decided, especially if these personal issues were affecting the team's performance.

The squabbles had to stop, and they had to stop now.

Cyborg pulled one of the last two papers from the hat and passed it back to Robin, who took the remaining slip. His large metal fingers carefully unfurled the paper in order to read its contents.

"Star, your name's on this," he told her, brow furrowed in confusion.

Starfire returned his puzzled expression and held up her own slip. "I received a paper with Friend Robin's name."

The boy stood to address his team, arms folded across his chest and a no-nonsense look on his face. He knew the activity was trivial, and that the others would probably hate it, but he was sick of the bitching and sick of the backhanded tricks and he was damn ready for it to stop.

"I know that lately there's been some tension in the tower," Robin began, his tone all business. "But as a team, we can't have unrest within our ranks. It's a liability. And quite frankly, I'm disappointed in all of you for letting it get so bad." His frown deepened. "You know as well as I do that you've all been behaving like spoiled children, and I won't stand for it. Not anymore."

A tinge of guilt permeated the room as the Titans accepted the verbal slap-on-the-wrist from their leader.

But Robin wasn't done yet.

He held up his own slip. "Each person drew a slip with one of their teammate's names written on it. Your assignment is to give me a full report on that person, from an objective point of view. Everything you know about them, starting from their name, age and beginnings."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Raven's shoulders stiffen beneath her cloak.

"No fair asking the person for details either," Robin specified, and saw the empath relax slightly.

He knew he was asking for a lot by making his friends complete this assignment; not everyone had a past they liked to revisit from time to time. But it was necessary for the team to become one cooperating unit again, instead of five bickering kids.

"The point is to try and get out of yourself and inside your friend's head, to better understand them and how they think and act."

Cyborg shifted in his seat, eyeing the way Raven's fingers anxiously unfolded and re-creased the paper with Beast Boy's name on it. "Sounds like you want us to get real personal, Rob. Do you really think that's… I don't know, appropriate?"

Robin nodded. "I understand what you're getting at. No one will read your analysis but you and me, so be honest. Don't worry about offending anyone—the person you're writing on will never know what you wrote if you don't tell them, and you all know that you can trust me."

He waited for this to sink in before continuing. "I want you to give it to me by the end of the day, and hopefully tomorrow's training will go a lot smoother."

"Erragh!" Came an aggravated whine from Beast Boy, whose chair made a loud _fwump_ing noise as all four legs hit the floor. "But _why_ do we have to do this?"

Raven shot him a glare. "Weren't you listening at all?"

"I'll paraphrase," Robin offered with a smirk, leaning over the kitchen table to pointedly tap the piece of paper in front of Beast Boy. "Basically, the gist was: because I'm the leader and I say so."

Hard to argue with that.

"Aw, man!" the shape-shifter groaned. "You mean we have to spend all day writing a stupid essay? That is so lame!"

"How can a writing assignment be injured to the point where it limps?"

Raven rolled her eyes from under the shadow of her cowl and sighed, picking up her pen and beginning her essay with small, perfectly-shaped cursive. "Just… do you homework, Star."

And then, miraculously, the team was silent, save for the scratching noises of their pens against paper.


	2. Chapter 1: Youth

**A/N:** This is my only update buffer-- after this, the chapter installments will be posted as fast as they are written (and with two jobs, friends, and a boyfriend, I doubt they'll be even close to regular. Sorry). I wasn't planning on posting this chapter so soon, but the prologue seems boring and lonely without any real plot to it, so I figured 'what the heck?'

Hope y'all like this-- if any of the Titans are out of character, let me know! I'm all over improving!

**Disclaimer:** No tengo Teen Titans.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Youth**

Raven liked to consider herself a decently patient person. She'd spent most of her life suppressing emotions such as anger and distress, and was an expert at keeping her cool under tough circumstances.

However, two hours of Cyborg chewing his pencil and absently rapping his metal knuckles on the kitchen counter, two hours of Starfire asking every few minutes for the English translation of a Tameranian word she wanted to use, and two hours of Beast Boy's endless _complaints _over Robin's assignment, Raven was on the brink of a complete homicidal spree.

"Friend Raven, how would you spell 'gozzlexremnorf' with your Earthen alphabet?"

Raven grit her teeth and lifted her eyes from her own paper, her right hand gripping her pen a bit tighter.

"You're writing about Robin, right?" she asked, her voice a tad tighter than usual.

Starfire flushed a bit and grinned sheepishly. "Correct."

Cyborg answered before Raven could, his words a growl, "Then you would spell it: D-O-U-C-H-E."

"Pffftt!!" Beast Boy choked, trying to stifle the belly-laugh that was dancing around his lungs. He bit his lip and hissed a laugh that sent projectile missiles of saliva across his paper (which was currently blank) while banging his fist on the kitchen table. Raven's eyebrow twitched, and inwardly she curled her lip in disgust.

Starfire blinked, clearly puzzled. She turned helplessly to Raven. "I do not understand what Beast Boy finds so amusing about the spelling of the word 'gozzelxremnorf.'"

"Cyborg's just being an ass, Starfire," the empath told her. "That's not how you spell gosselicks…whatever. It's how you spell 'douche.'"

Starfire looked appalled. "That was most unkind of you, Cyborg! Perhaps you are what Friend Raven refers to as a wild donkey!"

"Hey, no fair teaming up on Cyborg!" Beast Boy interjected, happy to have a distraction from finishing his essay.

"No kidding!" Cyborg crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not like I started this!"

If she were any less refined, Raven would have snorted derisively at that. As it was, her delicate cough and subtle eye-roll was enough to get her point across.

Cyborg's human eye gave a glare that was colder than his artificial one could ever give. "You got something to say to me, Raven?"

Raven's lofty stare said enough.

"Hey, it's not my fault Robin decided to be a jerk and take away an entire freaking Saturday because of some stupid arguments!" He argued.

"Friend Robin is not a jerk! _You _are being a jerk!"

The Tameranian's eyes glowed a bright green and her auburn hair twirled behind her as she slammed a fist into the table, the impact causing every piece of furniture in the room to leap an inch from the floor.

Beast Boy gave a pubescent squeak of shock and fell out of his chair. "Maybe you shouldn't make her mad, Cy—she looks like she's going to go all Super Saiyan and turn you into spare parts."

"She's overreacting!" Cyborg exclaimed in his own defense, and then under his breath, mumbled: "Typical for a woman."

"_Excuse _me?" Raven arched an eyebrow and darkened her glower.

"I'm sorry, did I stutter?"

Seeing the murderous look behind Raven's eyes, Beast Boy leapt under the counter, screaming, "Duck for cover, she's gonna blow! Into the escape pods—women and green-skinned dudes first!"

At this, Raven took a _deep_ breath. No, she was not going to explode. She was going to keep her cool. Like always.

"This is a pointless argument," she deadpanned, apathy firmly set into place. "I refuse to get into this when you're all acting ridiculous."

Cyborg scoffed. "You throw Beast Boy _over_ Titan's Tower and _we're_ acting ridiculous?"

"That's different. He earned it," Raven replied easily.

"Hey!" Beast Boy shouted in offence, standing from his crouched position behind the safety of the kitchen counter. "All I did was try to get you to lighten up a bit!"

Raven's death-glare—which, up until now, had been trying to cause Cyborg to burst into flames—relocated itself to work at burning twin holes through the center of Beast Boy's forehead.

"You _ruined_ my books."

"Not on purpose!"

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Raven could feel the last few shreds of her patience fraying away. "Your stupid prank _destroyed_ my _books_. Only an idiot would do something like that without thinking of the consequences."

There was a brief silence, and both Starfire and Cyborg were certain that Raven had stolen a clean victory. But Beast Boy wasn't defeated just yet, merely seething with a foreign anger.

"You know, Raven," he said at last, his voice strange with the sound of contempt, "you always act like you're so much better than the rest of us; you never really talk to us, or hang out with us. No, you're too good for that," he glared, pointing a finger of accusation at the empath. "Of course, you're not too good to be rude to all the rest of us when we try to get you to be a little happier."

"I'd be _happier_ if you'd all stop acting like children," Raven parried.

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, Miss High-And-Mighty, we _are_ children, and so are _you! _So stop acting like you're above us, already."

In retrospect, she'd have to commend Beast Boy for catching her by surprise. As it stood, however, the most he was going to get out of Raven for his outburst was a good and thorough whooping.

To his credit, Beast Boy only whimpered a _little_ when the muscles along Raven's jaw tightened in the way they did when she was seriously contemplating doing something horrible… and enjoy every minute of it.

He'd known the bear was annoyed. And what did he do? He poked it in the eye with a stick.

"If I were you," Raven said, very carefully, "I'd make sure that my next words were important, because they might be my last."

Beast Boy might have been foolish, but he wasn't _stupid_. He knew that look in Raven's eye meant she wasn't kidding, and so with a glare, he sat back down.

However, he might not have been stupid, but that doesn't mean he wasn't a sore loser, either.

"I can't believe she's so upset over a few books," he mumbled to Cyborg, who shrugged his heavy shoulders and didn't look up from his paper. "It's not healthy. I mean, she actually had a _crush_ on a freakin' book before. That's too much attachment."

Beast Boy chuckled a bit and continued, oblivious of the petrified look on Cyborg's face and the way he was poking him in the shoulder insistently. "Heh, I bet she got paper cuts when she kissed him."

Yeah, Raven liked to consider herself a patient person.

But limits are limits, and she'd had enough.

"THAT'S _IT!_" Books fell from cluttered shelves, dishes flew noisily out of the cupboards, and lamps rattled off their stands as the entire island shook from a telekinetic-induced earthquake.

"Woah!"

"Oh my!"

"DUDES!"

The rest of the Titans flailed to anchor themselves to something nailed down as the tower shuddered violently around them.

"I'm going to my room," Raven intoned over the dying chaos. As quickly as it had come, the earthquake was ebbing, leaving Starfire, Cyborg, and Beast Boy to slowly loosen their white-knuckle grips as a few last items fluttered to the floor in the wake of the vibrations.

"And if _anyone_ even _looks_ at my bedroom door," she added dangerously, sinking into the black portal of energy that opened on the floor beneath her, "I will send them to a dimension so twisted and terrible, they'd wish I'd sent them to Hell."

And she was gone, leaving the room in silence, save for the clattering of something that had fallen rolling around on the tile in the kitchen and the hissing of a broken pipe somewhere.

The remaining three Titans slowly pulled themselves off of the floor, observing the damage in shock.

"So," Beast Boy said at last, scratching the back of his head, "maybe Star's temper tantrums aren't so bad?"

* * *

Raven was still mad when she made it to her room, teleporting in through the ceiling. 

She closed her eyes, breathed deep, and counted to ten, trying to let the soothing silence of her bedroom ease her anger.

It seemed to work, and as Raven rounded on the final number she felt better. She breathed again, a large breath, feeling calmer, more at ease and—

_ZZZTT!_

A rogue bolt of telekinesis grabbed hold of her nightstand, flipped it over, and violently ripped its legs off.

... Raven was still mad.

So, she opted for the only method that had ever worked properly in balancing her emotions when they got out of control: meditation.

Closing her eyes, Raven folded her legs and adopted the lotus position, her muscles hardly having to stretch to accommodate the familiar position. Back straight, shoulders square, she lifted effortlessly into the air, coming to hover just above the foot of her bed.

The levitation brought her into a steady rise-and-fall motion that brought an almost immediate serenity to the empath's being. It was bobbing on a slow wave, soft and easy. And as quickly as one drifts off to sleep, Raven found herself drifting deeper and deeper into a meditative state.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos." The syllables fell easily from her practiced tongue.

_All I did was try to get you to lighten up a bit! _The words echoed in the caverns of her mind, rocketing out of nowhere and throwing her meditation off-balance.

Oh, that Beast Boy! If Cyborg didn't put a leash on him, she'd have him neutered. Raven furrowed her brow and tried to concentrate on centering herself, finding that familiar groove of complete and utter peace…

_You always act like you're so much better than the rest of us; you never really talk to us, or hang out with us. No, you're too good for that._

Despite her efforts to push it away, the recent scene rose unbidden to her mind's eye, and in it she could see herself—the way she flinched when the nerve was struck—and she could see Beast Boy.

It had been a long time since she'd seen him so upset. His outburst, Raven concluded logically, had been unreasonable and unjustified; she hadn't pulled any low-brow insults or brought up anything that would overly offend him. And it wasn't even as if she'd pulled any _new_ artillery on him; it was the same argument since the day they met.

This, Raven decided, needed further analysis.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos."

She let her mind reconstruct the details.

_Stop acting like children_, she had told him, annoyance reaching its peak. She remembered thinking that this would be how an exasperated mother would feel, after countless failed attempts at forcing her children to behave.

Her brain replayed his response. This time, she didn't miss the conflict on Beast Boy's face, the slight hurt in his green eyes as he defended himself so desperately. There was a tension in his stance; he was on edge and clearly more upset than he had tried to let on. Maybe her words had hit a nerve, too.

_We _are_ children!_

For some reason, that phrase wouldn't leave her head, and it made her uneasy. It didn't sit right in her brain.

_We _are _children!_

Could she have possibly missed what he was really saying? Why was this bothering her so much?

_We _are _children!_

_We _are _children!_

_WE_ ARE _CHILDREN!_

And, like most things did when Raven thought long and hard about them, the answer came soft and sweet.

'_Oh_,' her brain sighed in realization, _'I see.'_

Her anger ebbed in light of a warm understanding that quickly balanced her inner self and brought her center within the conscious reaches of her thought. Despite how her life on Azarath had left much to be desired, she would never take for granted the knowledge of how to properly meditate, to find the right answer, to become one with the world and feel better immediately.

Unhurriedly, Raven unfurled her legs, stretching the lithe muscles before floating to her desk and seating herself at the dark-wooded table.

She picked up her pen and her paper she had started earlier, and began to write.

After all, there was much that needed to be said.

* * *

Robin was not surprised to see that Raven was the first to finish. 

"Here," she said in a lackluster tone before handing him three neatly scripted pages. "Go nuts."

He offered her a smile he knew would go unreturned. "Thanks, Raven."

"Your welcome." The formality was cold.

And then, with a swish of her cloak, the emath dissolved into a black portal that opened up the floor beneath her, teleporting to another part of the tower without a word.

It wasn't until much later that evening that Robin had the chance to look over Raven's work, but he figured he'd need a large cup of coffee and a handful of aspirin in order to get through what he predicted to be nothing but three pages of eloquent barbs toward Beast Boy.

And so, preparing for a headache, he started in on Raven's essay, eyes easily drifting over line upon line of her elegant penmanship.

* * *

Beast Boy is the baby of the Titans—barely a teen at the fragile age of 13. Too young to be fighting a grown-up's battles, say many. 

And I must say that I agree. Beast Boy _is_ too young, too inexperienced. We've all seen him straggling behind at times, pretending to know what he's doing but really just flying by the seat of his pants and endangering his team with stupid assumptions and poor judgments. However, despite this, there were miraculously few times that the rest of the team had to pick up slack for his inexperience in the rough-and-tumble world—Beast Boy is rarely unpredictable and never undependable, and with time his rawness will evolve.

Even I'll admit that he's pretty tough for a 13-year-old. He's witnessed some of the most horrendous crimes in the history of Jump City, and he's not even old enough to see an R-rated movie. That at least deserves some kind of appreciation.

Of course I'd never say it aloud. I'd rather have my arm chewed off by some sort of angry Tameranian carnivore (and from what Starfire tells me, the experience would be most unpleasant).

Because of his age, I guess it goes without saying that his immaturity frequently has a tendency of grating the rest of the team's nerves. Not that he can help it, it's more of a little-brother annoyance than anything. We humor him the best we can (some better than others), but sometimes it's difficult to treat him as an equal when he continuously proves himself to be still a child.

Time after time he continuously confirms just how inexperienced to the world he really is with his lame jokes and light-hearted attempts to bring a normal adolescence to the tower. From practical jokes and instigating countless surprise-assaults on his fellow teammates with Stank Ball, to attempting to smuggle in a six pack of beer past Robin's no-tolerance scrutiny, it's obvious that Beast Boy really doesn't understand the dynamics of the maturity required of us.

But it's to be expected. Beast Boy is young, on the cusp of adolescence. The only family he's familiar with is his team, and we are anything but parental (needless to say, if any of us were parents, our children would end up severely mentally damaged). We, a rag-tag group of children in costumes, couldn't possibly compare to a real family—more specifically, _his_ real family.

Beast Boy, unlike most of the Titans, knew what it was like to lead a normal life, a novelty lost on someone like me. He had a mother and a father, who so cruelly thought to name their only son "Garfield," of all the mock-inducing titles.

Poor choice of name aside, Beast Boy had parents who were good people. Parents who had laid the groundwork of a normal, human life for a boy named Garfield.

It's one thing to never know of a life that could've been and miss it. But it's another thing entirely to have that future laid out, and then taken away from you.

I don't believe that a single one of the Titans can lay claim to a life without loss, but I am compelled to believe that Beast Boy's is a heavier loss than most. He lost his parents, his humanity, and his chance at a normal life within the spread of a few fated seconds. It is a difficult emptiness to quell in the dark of the night, and sometimes my empathy traces the edges of his sadness when he dreams.

But Beast Boy is a Titan. He is stronger than many (myself included) are inclined to give him credit for, and his emptiness is filled with the sense of normalcy that living in a tower with others who understand loss has brought him.

Yes, Beast Boy is a Titan. Not because of a desire to right wrongs, or due to an innate sense of duty, but because each of his teammates has also lost the chance for a completely human future. He takes comfort in belonging, in sharing his altered future and understanding what it cost him.

This is probably why he and Cyborg get along so well. Both had sampled the normalcy of a life void of superpowers and the responsibility that would come with them. Both find themselves craving for just another moment of video games, of beach volley ball and hitting on random girls in the park or at the pizza parlor.

These glimpses of normalcy are all they are allowed, but together, they can forget about the fact that Beast Boy's green skin would have him ostracized by his peers or that Cyborg's prosthetics would prevent him from ever truly knowing what the texture of the football in his massive, metal palm would feel like.

It's a cruel, backwards sort of world in which the Titans exist, where the blessed are cursed and the youth try to reinstate justice to the world the adults have sullied. The gifts we were given become a burden; Beast Boy was given the ability to morph into any animal on the planet (including a few that have been long-since extinct), but with this ability came the responsibility to protect those who could not protect themselves. Such a responsibility would quickly make a man out of any 13-year-old boy.

I always preferred the name "the Titans" to "the Teen Titans". It's amazing how the simple addition of the word 'teen' suddenly turns us into a naïve group of vigilantes—the diction gives me imagery of children running around in capes and fanciful costumes, pretending to know how to handle the corruption and crime in Jump City.

You see, we're anything _but_ children.

As I've mentioned before, many believe that a 13-year-old should not be privy to the twisted darkness of the greedy and the cruel. And I completely agree—Beast Boy is _too young_.

But despite being young, Beast Boy is _not_ a child. He is a Titan. His loss makes him strong, and under the watchful eyes of his team, he is growing into what promises to be an effective crime-fighter.

All in all, I can't bring myself to blame Beast Boy _entirely _for the way he behaves. I need to remember to remind myself that he is merely trying to preserve those last fleeting moments of a regular teenage life. I need to understand _why_ it's so important to him.

Though, if he continues to test the limits of the harbor of my patience, I can't guarantee that this logic will register in time to stop me from banishing him to the farthest ring of Hell my teleportation can reach.

So, to conclude, if he promises to keep those damn vinegar balloons away from my spell books, I promise to give his antics a bit of slack.

At least, just this once.

* * *

The passage ended with Raven's simple signature. 

Stacking the papers neatly on his desk, Robin brought a gloved hand to rub at his chin absently, trying to digest the empath's words. After all, the essay was far from what he had expected from her.

Sure, he expected it to be elegantly-composed (Raven was nothing if not eloquent and organized) and maybe just a bit snide. And of course he figured it to be like eating nails to get her to be honest about _Beast Boy _of all people.

But he had no idea that the most secretive of the Titans would be willing to be so open with her true feelings, _especially_ the ones that disproved her 'I-only-just-tolerate-you-so-watch-yourself' exterior, and _especially_ when written when she was annoyed.

It was a beautiful letter, really, Robin decided. And a shame that Beast Boy would never read it. But he was a man of his word, and the letter was placed at the back of Raven's private file (and by "private," he meant _"__**private**_"—the manila folder with Raven's name on it contained about a paragraph of her physical make-up and a list of allergies, and even that had taken two pints of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream to wheedle out of her).

At the very least, Robin was satisfied. The assignment, though met with begrudging compliance, seemed to be working. If Raven, of all people, was willing to take it seriously enough to be effective in changing her death wish for Beast Boy, then it could do miracles for the rest of the team. He stifled a grin, thinking that if Raven refrained from maiming their resident shape-shifter for the next three weeks, he wouldn't have to buy her an entire gallon of mint ice cream in order to bribe her into behaving.

He could almost see the glare on Raven's face when he told her.

The grin fighting to take place on his face solidified.

* * *

TBC!

Reviews are appreciated! Thanks!


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